They got off from their horses, and from behind a bank or knoll, again peppered away at us; but we were well fortified, and whenever they showed their heads we let them know that we could shoot as well as they.
[Illustration: THE FIRE SIGNAL.] After we had been cooped up in our little fort, for about an hour, we discovered cavalry coming toward us at full gallop over the prairie.

Our signal of distress had proved a success.

The Indians saw the soldiers at about the same time that we did, and thinking that it would not be healthy for them to remain much longer in that vicinity, they mounted their horses and disappeared down the canons of the creek.

When the soldiers came up we had the satisfaction of showing them five "_good_" Indians, that is dead ones.
Two hours later we pulled into camp with our load of meat, which was found to be all right, except that it had a few bullets and arrows sticking in it.
While I was hunting for the Kansas Pacific railway, I had the pleasure, in the fall of 1867, of meeting the celebrated Kit Carson, one of, if not the oldest and most noted scout, guide, and hunter that our western country has ever produced.

He was on his way to Washington.